Fallen Tree

By Erina Leask



Mushrooms grew lazily in the shade of the giant dark trees. Bell shaped flowers the color of lilacs tinkled in the gentle breeze, swaying on their long stalks. Saplings poked their sleepy heads out of the soil and embraced the light, if they were lucky enough to find some. Moss clung to the sides of the ancient yew trees and birds of bright colors fluttered among the branches. She stood in the sun, warming her dark skin. Bright feathers of green, orange and blue were woven into her tangled braids. Curved marks of ash painted her body, like clan tattoos, naming her. Her silver eyes looked up. Up at where she knew the canopy of the forest was. Up at where she knew the beams of light were piercing through the leaves and casting dancing shapes on the ground. She looked, and saw nothing. She was blind. But even so, she had never had a problem seeing. If she wandered, she could navigate the entire wilderness, she could name every tree, stick and stone of the Koru Forest. She smiled as little fragile vines, fresh and new, curled lovingly around her feet. Although she could not see the plants, she could feel them. Not like how you feel something brushing the skin, but how you feel your arm, how you control it, how it is part of you. She couldn’t see, but she could feel, the entire forest, like it was part of her very body. Their heartbeats were as one, her breath was the same, she lived in the forest, and the forest lived in her.
She felt a little mouse scurry past and a butterfly flitter from flower to flower. She felt the breeze brush past her and wind through the maze of trees. She smelt the sweetness of new life. She heard a pretty birdsong, a tune so simple yet remarkable, which abruptly ended with a blood curling ‘thuck’. Suddenly a bird, small and crumpled, fell into her arms. Confusion. She frowned as her fingers ran over the bird as it lay limply in her hands, like a small wooden doll. She brushed its feathers, which were damp and heavy in blood, a large arrow, protruding from its side. Nothing prepared her in time. A blade struck her back and she screamed in pain. She hadn’t felt the intruder coming, hadn’t felt his approach, how did she not sense him? The blade withdrew, and then struck again with harder force and she faltered as it bit into her flesh. She tried swinging around madly to strike him…but there was nothing there. Nothing just the shadowy forest at her very feet. There was a dull throbbing pain at her feet and a sharp pain in her back. She could feel a warm steady flow of blood, as it trailed to her feet. She was so terrified, but so…tired. The pain was so intense, and it felt like she could stand no longer. But she knew that if she fell, she would not get back up again.
There was a long sad moan as she collapsed, her cry repeated a thousand times, echoing around what now seemed to be a desolate forest of unkind souls, but went unheard.
Her blind eyes widened. She woke. She was still there, bound to the ground where she had lain for so very long. There was still the sharp pain in her back but it was merely a thorny vine trying to drag itself from under her lifeless body to escape into the sun. Her feet still ached from where they had struck her down. Her blood had seeped and spread thickly over the forest floor, red and sticky. Vines had grown over her limbs since, fastening her to her fate like heavy chains. She had been dreaming again, mindless echoes of an ancient life. Every ring in her bones marked a story of her life, which she would live over, again and again. As she waited for her life force to drain, for her flesh to rot, for her untimely end, she dreamed. And these were the dreams of a fallen tree.